Steve woke up in a world of pain. Every cell in his body screamed for relief that didn't come. He blinked his eyes open, but immediately closed them again, aware of the migraine that was pounding against the inside of his skull. His thoughts moved slowly, and it was a struggle to put them together. He breathed in and out, trying to compose himself, trying to remember what had happened. For a moment he was certain that he had a few drinks too many last night.
But no. He could taste something in his mouth. Not alcohol. It was metallic. Unpleasant. Familiar. He hadn't been drinking. It was blood.
The memories rushed up at him.
The bar.
Roko Makoni.
The explosion.
The failed escape attempt.
He tried to move his arms, but he couldn't. They were behind his back, his wrists tied together once again. His shoulders throbbed with cramps. He concentrated on his legs. They, at least, were free this time. He opened his eyes again.
Lying on his back, he found himself on the floor of the container. Its door was wide open, allowing soft morning daylight to filter into the confined space. His eyes landed on two men who had overpowered him earlier. They both glared daggers at Steve from outside, where the motionless body of their dead comrade lay on the ground.
Then Makoni came into view, his menacing gaze fixed upon his captive. He took a few steps closer, and stopped just inches from Steve, looming above him with a frown.
"You killed one of my men," he said.
"They tried to kill me first," Steve said through bloodied teeth. "I did what I had to."
To his surprise, Makoni nodded. "I know. That reminds me…"
Steve drew his brows together in confusion.
Makoni's eyes never left Steve's when he called out, "Nsenga, Lenge, get over here!"
The two men hesitated momentarily before approaching.
"Over there." Makoni gestured to the back of the container.
Complying with the clear command, they moved to the spot and began turning to face their boss when Makoni drew his Beretta from its holster. Pointed the muzzle in their direction and fired two rounds in quick succession.
There was an explosion of blood and the loud roar of the shots cannoned off the metal walls of the container. For a moment, the only thing Steve could hear was ringing in his ears. The loud sound reverberated through his no doubt concussed brain with vicious intensity.
Makoni didn't seem to be bothered at all. He watched the life drain from his fallen men, their bodies motionless on the floor, blood pooling around their heads. His gaze lingered on the gruesome scene, his expression one of detached curiosity. Slowly, he holstered his weapon, his attention shifting back to Steve.
Steve, his body racked with pain, was halfway through an attempt to roll over and sit up. But Makoni had no intention of allowing him any respite. With a swift and brutal kick, Makoni's boot crashed into Steve's side, driving the air from his lungs. Steve crumpled back to the ground, gasping for breath as agony coursed through his beaten body.
A second later, Makoni's boot descended upon Steve's neck, crushing his windpipe under the weight. Steve convulsed, his legs flailing in a desperate attempt to free himself, but each struggle only elicited a firmer grip from Makoni. Gradually, Steve's movements subsided, his body succumbing to the relentless pressure.
"Did I say you could move?" Makoni's voice dripped with sadistic amusement as he maintained just enough pressure on Steve's windpipe to allow him to breathe, albeit barely. "Stay still. I want to show you something."
Makoni retrieved his phone, and with a flick of his finger, he scrolled through its contents. A malicious grin tugged at the corners of his lips as he found what he was looking for. With deliberate intent, he turned the screen toward Steve, revealing a video that illuminated the screen.
It was a young reporter on the news, with the words 'BREAKING NEWS - EXPLOSION AT HILTON HAWAIIAN VILLAGE' in bold letters flashing on the half bottom of the screen, capturing Steve's immediate attention. In the background, a scene of chaos unfolded in the aftermath of the devastating explosion. The reporter's voice resonated from the recording, her tone urgent and filled with the gravity of the situation.
Good evening, I'm Hannah Cross, reporting live from Hilton Hawaiian Village in Honolulu, where a devastating explosion has occurred at the hotel's renowned restaurant.
Steve's heart sank as he listened to the reporter's words, his composure slipping for a moment as the weight of the news hit him like a physical blow. His eyes remained glued to the phone screen, transfixed by the unfolding chaos that played out before him. The camera panned across the ravaged restaurant area, revealing a haunting scene of shattered windows, scorched walls, and twisted debris. Each fragment told a tale of destruction, punctuating the air with a sense of despair.
The explosion claimed the lives of two staff members and ten customers and left many others severely injured.
Steve watched the efforts of emergency responders on camera, their determined faces etched with exhaustion and determination. The sight of injured individuals being carefully attended to, their pain etched upon their faces, ignited a fiery anger within Steve. He felt a surge of helplessness mixed with blind rage.
Makoni watched Steve closely, observing the turmoil in his eyes. The bastard knew exactly how much Steve cared for his team and the people of the island. No doubt it pleased him to see his hostage torn inside, fueling his own twisted satisfaction.
At this early stage, details are still emerging about the cause of the explosion. Authorities are on-site, working diligently to piece together what happened. While it is too soon to definitively label it as an act of terror, the nature and impact of this incident raise concerns and the investigators are exploring all avenues, including the possibility of a deliberate act.
Steve's jaw tightened as his eyes scanned the scene, desperately hoping to catch a glance of anyone from Five-0 amidst the chaos, but it was futile.
We will continue to provide you with the latest updates as they become available. So stay tuned.
The camera zoomed in on the reporter.
Reporting live from the Hilton Hawaiian Village, this is Hannah Cross with Hawaii News Now. Back to you in the studio.
Makoni pressed the stop button and tucked his phone away as Steve fought the rising panic. Makoni hadn't been bluffing. He had really blown up the restaurant in which Steve's ohana dined last night. He couldn't shake off the reporter's words - at least twelve innocent people had died. Were his friends among them?
Finally, Makoni removed the boot off Steve's neck, allowing him to take in a full breath.
"Noble cause you're fighting for," Makoni sneered. "But it seems like you're losing, Commander."
Steve clenched his jaw, his emotions churning within him.
"How does it feel, watching your people suffer?" Makoni taunted. "It hurts, doesn't it?"
Steve's muscles tensed, his fury boiling inside him. "I'll kill you, you sick son of a b–"
"I really admire your spirit," Makoni interrupted, a wicked smile playing on his lips. "But your heroics won't help you this time."
Steve's bound hands clenched into fists, the desire to strike Makoni overwhelming him. He knew he had to keep his composure, to find a way out of this nightmare. But the sight of Makoni reveling in his pain and anger ignited a fire within him that threatened to consume all reason.
"We'll see about that," Steve retorted.
"You are a brave man, but I'm not afraid of you," Makoni said, the glint of satisfaction obvious in his dark eyes. "You have no idea what I'm capable of. You've made a powerful enemy, Commander."
Steve opened his mouth to respond, but Makoni cut him off.
"You know, Nsenga and Lenge were two of my oldest friends," the warlord said gesturing to the two dead men on the floor without a hint of an emotion. "We grew up together."
Steve said nothing.
"Begs two questions, doesn't it?" Makoni said. "Question one: why am I enforcing such strict discipline, even against my old friends? And question two: if that's how I treat my friends, how do I treat my enemies?"
Steve said nothing. When in doubt, just keep your mouth shut.
"I treat my enemies a lot worse than that," Makoni said. "So much worse, you really don't want to think about it. You really don't, believe me. And why am I being so strict? Because that little performance in Waikiki was just the beginning. A warm-up. Things are going to happen which will rip your precious home apart. Plans are made and operations are underway. And no one is going to mess with that, not even my friends."
Steve said nothing. Tried to look unfazed and keep his stirred-up emotions under the lid.
"Soon, I will set this island ablaze," Makoni said. "And I want you to watch it burn."
Steve watched him walk over to the entrance, his mind racing with panicked thoughts. Makoni turned, holding both sides of the doorway in his hands. He locked his gaze with Steve's.
"But for now, sit tight and relish in the knowledge that you are utterly powerless to stop me," Makoni said, and closed the heavy door shut.
*to be continued*
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